


Straight On Till Morning

by terminaltongues



Category: One Direction (Band), Peter Pan (2003)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fairies, Flying, Lost Boys, Louis is everything, Magic, Minor Violence, Neverland, Twins, flamingoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5574802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminaltongues/pseuds/terminaltongues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis blinks and takes in a deep breath. The crackle of the fire is the only audible noise. He takes the time to look at each of them, each of his Lost Boys. Niall, the small and thin boy, with his rowdy laughter, pale skin, blonde hair, and cheerful blue eyes. Liam standing tall and sturdy, brown eyes like chocolate and voice meant for a mermaid’s lagoon. Zayn and Zain, with their dark eyes, dark hair, and feather soft voices and nimble fingers painting their own stories and adventures on the walls of the caves. Finally, Harry, the curly-haired lad, clumsy and bright, eager to please and sweet to the ears. His Lost Boys. </p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>The adventures of Louis and the Lost Boys</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straight On Till Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narryornarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narryornarry/gifts).



> Yay! I love fic exchanges, they're so much fun! I love seeing all the stories that come out of them, they are really so wonderful. A huge thanks to [footieau](http://footieau.tumblr.com//) and [craicdealers](http://craicdealers.tumblr.com//) for putting this exchange on. They've been such a huge help throughout this whole process. Of course I also have to thank my amazingly patient, sweet, and kind beta, [K](http://speakingwithink.tumblr.com//) She is so amazing. 
> 
> To Narryornarry, I hope you enjoy the story! I know you were hoping for an OT4, and at first I tried to write it, but the story felt like it was missing something. So, even though Zayn is in it, I hope you enjoy it anyways. Thanks for the prompt!

“...And then what?” Zayn was asking, leaning forward, one arm clutching his beating heart, the other clasped tightly on the arm of his twin. 

Louis was in mid-story. He had paused for dramatic effect, arms raised and face twisted menacingly, his shadow danced behind him wildly, fingers extending into massive claws that swiped at the dimly lit cave walls. 

He shoots Zayn a long glare, and his lips purse, his gaze like needles as they prick at Zayn’s skin, sinking into the meat of him. His brother, Zain, pets his arm consolingly.

Louis coughs, and then continues talking as if Zayn hadn’t spoken at all,

“There I was, without breath nor weapon, standing with my shadow trembling at the edge of creaking tree branch. Hook stood across from me, sword pointed directly at my throat, he yelled, ‘En garde!’ and lunged!” 

The boys gasp appropriately. Harry’s leaning forward so much, he nearly falls onto Niall’s back, his curls shaking from their roots.

Louis acts the scene out, toes pointed downwards floating in the air as he jumps backwards and whips out an imaginary sword, his shadow silhouetting the shape behind him. He turns to the boys and offers them a wide grin, revealing his pointed canines, glistening with saliva. 

Louis’ face takes an exaggerated frown, eyes glistening with delight. “Poor Hook thought he had me,” Lous sighs twirling across the floor of the cave, his feet never touching the floor. Fairy dust flows freely and rains down upon the boys, making their eyelashes sparkle. Harry sneezes. 

“Alas, Hook couldn’t lay a finger on me, no,” Louis boasts, wiggling his fingers. “As soon as he moved, I jumped from the branch straight to the heavens! So high Hook seemed only as the ant that he is.” 

The boys’ giggling is cut off by the sudden appearance of a small darting ball of light. It storms the cave, bouncing against the cave walls and illuminating the boys’ faces in bright flashes as it zooms by. It whizzes a hair’s width by Harry and he yelps. Liam tugs at one of his curls, and Harry smiles bashfully. Louis takes in the newcomer with ease. 

“Yes, of course, I couldn’t have done it without Tink’s help,” Louis placates the small and bright fairy, waving a hand dismissively. Tinker Bell squeaks in disagreement, yelling into Louis’ ear. Louis’ laughs loudly at her complaints and sprinkles some dust over the fairy. 

“As I was saying,” Louis continues, “thanks to Tink, I was more than safe from Hook’s threats, and so when he moved forward to strike his final blow, he was met with empty space, not even my shadow was there to meet him.  
It was then that, with all his might propelled forward, Hook swung forward off balance, into the crocodile’s swamp!” 

Louis mimed unbalance before falling forward, landing in an explosion of fairy dust, nose just a centimeter from the ground. The boys are splashed heavily by the glittery substance. Harry sneezes again, and the powder shakes from the tips of his curls. He wipes hurriedly at his nose, eyes wide and attached to Louis whirlwind movements. The rest of the boys are quiet, hardly letting a breath escape, eager for the ending of their leader’s famous tale. It’s a tale they’ve heard countless time, yet it seems to evolve and change into an even more grand adventure every time they settle down to listen.

Louis bounces back up to a vertical poise, and begins to twist his body, thrashing it every which way. The boys tremble as they watch Louis, who in mid-air seems to take on the crocodile’s shape, it’s wide snapping jaw in the ways his arms flay above him wildly, in the way his legs flail in tune with an invisible monster. Despite the terror, his movements are graceful, and contain a certain rhythm that only Louis’ stories hold. 

“Hook kicked and screamed and yelled and cried, begging for me to save him.” The boys tittered quietly.

Louis’ described Hook as a dismal man, tall and overgrown like a Mwerebi tree, hair down to his chest, braided in chunks on the sides, small bones of dead animals woven into the nest of his beard. He’s spoken of his eyes as two bloody pits, dark and the center and surrounded by a crimson ring. The boys couldn’t imagine a man as terrifying as that weeping for help. “I, in pity and grace, descended to save him from the clutches of the carnivorous beast,” Louis reveals a malicious grin, “but not before letting the beast take a souvenir.”

The boys cheered loudly; they were reaching the big reveal. 

“I dragged the pirate’s body from the swamp and laid him upon the grass, hidden from sight, so that he might return to health in time. But, so he wouldn’t forget our bloody fight, I left him permanently disarmed.” Louis’ eyes twinkle as he reaches his closing lines. 

The boys break into hysterics at the pun, Liam guffaws whilst Niall slaps at Harry’s knees and the twins clutch each other’s shoulders. 

“So now, poor Hook, the devilish man, goes day and night with his silver peg for a hand, seeking revenge on the boy that brought him to his ruin,” Louis ends ominously. 

The boys whoop and holler and jump to their feet, equally upset and pleased by the ending. It fills them with a shared sense of fear and unrest knowing that Hook is still out there, groaning his loss and seeking vengeance. 

The boys rush and surround Louis, and he joins in on their howling, enough fairy dust exuding from him, that they unintentionally float a few inches off the dirt-floor, their spirits too high for ground level. 

Outside of their cave, Neverland is as it always is, a quiet hum and star-dusted sky. 

...

Louis never explicitly told the boys that speaking of ‘Before’ isn’t allowed, but the rule is still there, unspoken but rigidly enforced. The backlash mainly consists of Louis’ eyes, cold and so sharp, his shadow a large geometric shape behind him, all pointed edges.

 

So, when Liam mentions it in passing on their way to the berry patch at the edge of the forest, none of the boys are surprised when Louis’ face, previously cheerful and bright, darkens into a frowning glower. 

All Liam had done was mention a dream he’d had the previous night. 

“It was so strange,” he had been whispering to Zayn and Zain, eyes cast forward, tracking Louis’ form perched on Nialls’ shoulders rolling with his laughter as Niall purposely teetered from side to side. In front of them Harry was walking backwards and making silly faces at Louis. He trips on a root, and Louis positively shudders with delight. 

“There was this person there standing above me, but they weren’t like you, or Louis, or Harry, or Niall,” Liam had said, still watching Louis, but now with his head cocked to the side and a hand pitter-pattering at his chin, pondering his words. 

“What were they like?” Zain asked. He had one hand brushing against Zayn’s in a constant sweep, and the other plucking up wheat and grass from the tall meadow they had just entered. The wheat tickled his fingers and kissed his palm as they walked. 

It was Zain’s distinct tone, soft and gold, painted with curiosity that had drawn Louis’ attention away from Harry’s contorted face. 

“She was different from anyone I’ve ever seen,” Liam had admitted. 

Zayn perked up, “She?”

That’s when Louis had jumped off of Niall’s shoulder, fluttering gracefully to the ground, landing arms crossed in front of them, halting their journey. Niall turned back confused at the sudden disappearance of weight from his shoulders, and Harry after a dazed look-about, tore his gaze from the clouds and wandered back over to where Louis was standing, nose scrunched unpleasantly. 

The Twins lean away from Louis’ emanating displeasure. Zayn grabs his brother’s hand, linking their fingers. Liam simply blinks, fingers still dancing in thought. 

“I had a dream last night,” he says.

“About a She?” Louis demands.

Liam contemplates the questions.

“Well she certainly wasn’t a He. A He has no lumps, and a She has long hair. She was a tall She and She wore strange clothes.” 

“I have long hair,” Harry interrupts, tugging a curl up to display. 

Louis smiles brilliantly at Harry and Harry grins back, before accidentally tearing out the thin curl from his scalp. He cries out and Louis titters, but praises Harry with a pat to his head and then another to his nose. 

He grabs the hair from Harry’s hand and waves it in front of Liam’s face. 

“Does that make Harry a She?” Louis raises an eyebrow, it’s arch wide and unforgiving. 

Liam frowns, suddenly unsure. He scrutinizes Harry; his wide frame, but thin extremities, his flat pale chest on display beneath his dirt brown vest. No lumps are visible. His hair is long like the She, and his face soft as well, but his lips are duller, less red, and eyes not as dark. He decides, Harry’s not a She at all.

“No,” he utters slowly, “Harry’s not a She.” 

Louis exposes his teeth, white and pointed, allowing a smile to grace his lips, clearly pleased. 

But Liam goes on, “But She was definitely a She, and I don’t know where She came from.” 

Like a switch, Louis’ smile turns back down, and his eyes darken again. 

“She doesn’t exist.”

“But my dream...” Liam mumbles. 

Louis’ shadow suddenly flares out, expanding flat and wide across the meadow. The sun casts it in a tall light, darker in contrast to the pale green grass. Harry and Niall get enveloped in it and they both screech, startled, before ambling away, their own shadows stumbling as to not get swallowed up by its vastness. 

“Your dream doesn’t exist,” Louis grits out. 

“But...” Liam trails off at the absolute horrid look he receives.

“Neverland is a dream, right?” Louis questions softly. 

Now Liam is even more confused. 

“Yeah, but it’s a different kind of dream,” he reasons. 

Louis doesn’t frown, but he cocks his head to the side and smiles sweetly, his feet floating a few inches off the ground. He even lets out a small giggle, confusing Liam further. 

“You can’t have two dreams, Lima Bean. Can you?” 

Liam thinks on this. 

“No, I guess you can’t.”

“Right, so if She is not in Neverland and Neverland is not where she is, then only one can be real, and only one can exist,” Louis explains, his voice melodic, rising and falling like the sound of a flute. 

“Well, I guess so,” Liam agrees. 

“So which exists then, Liam? She or Neverland?” 

Liam falters. 

“Neverland?” 

It’s not hard to remember why Louis is their leader when he smiles. Tinkerbell is nowhere to be seen, yet Louis seems to exude fairy dust, and if he were not the size that he is, the boys would have no trouble believing that Louis is a fairy himself. His smile is blinding and bright, so infectious that even the Twins feel their cheeks lifting. 

“I think so. Do you think so?” Louis crows turning to Harry, grabbing his arms and pulling him up into the air. Harry laughs, tickled pink, as Louis twirls him. He absorbs some of Louis’ magic and when Louis lets go, he remains in the air, floating on the glimmering wind. 

“I do! I do!” He cries.  
“Niall?” Louis asks turning to the blonde. 

Niall simply puts both arms in the air and waits. Louis meets him and grabs his arms swinging him upwards and straight into Harry. They spiral and twirl manically. 

“And you Liam?” Louis asks, eyes twinkling. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” He shouts jumping up. 

Louis pulls him up too, and then with a pause, assesses the two ground-stationed twins. 

“And you, Zayn?” He’s looking at them both, addressing them both, with the single question. The twins are used to it. 

They both nod simultaneously, and with a wave of the hand, their bodies float skywards, hovering at the same level the rest of the boys are at. The twins smile graciously at Louis and Louis returns it for the briefest of moments, but like whiplash it’s replaced by uncertainty and then he’s gone all together as he turns back to Harry to demonstrate how to do a triple back flip. 

...

It’s Harry who finally persuades Louis to take them to Mermaid’s Lagoon. Louis didn’t like talking about it much. The topic makes him grow fidgety and unusually quiet, gives him a red face and hot cheeks. 

“Louis, we haven’t gone on an adventure in forever,” Harry had goaded the previous night. Harry was draped across Louis’ legs, staring at the ceiling of their cave and dragging a stick through his tangled locks. Louis’ shadow was dancing across the ceiling lazily, while Louis himself was eating a basket of berries, red juice staining his fingertips and a smeared streak across his forehead. Niall and Liam were testing who could hold their breath the longest without blinking in front of the fire, and Zain was sleeping against his brother who was pressing berry-stained handprints against the cave wall. 

“Sure we have,” Louis had dismissed easily. “We went to go see the Flamingoes just the other day.”

Harry’s stick gets stuck in a particularly nasty knot and he winces as his hand jerks through it tearing out a chunk of hair. Louis frowns and grabs the stick from Harry’s hands, throwing it across the cave into the fire. He continues Harry’s grooming with his fingers, delicately picking through the knots with practiced certainty. Harry makes no argument. 

“But that was ages ago, and we didn’t even get any feathers!” Harry whines. 

Niall is completely red in the face from lack of air and he lets out a gasping breath, taking in the oxygen. Liam follows shortly after, but with a look of triumph. 

“You’re the one that scared them all away!” Louis snaps exasperated. It was true. They’d had the flamboyance of flamingoes surrounded, when Harry had tripped on a tree root and screamed bloody murder. 

Harry shrugs, unperturbed.

“That’s why we should go see the mermaids! They won’t run away.” 

“That’s because they can’t,” Liam pipes up, his face almost completely returned to its natural coloring. 

Harry sticks his tongue out in Liam’s general direction. 

“Yeah, Louis! I’ve always wanted to see a mermaid,” Niall chimes in. 

“Fine,” Louis snaps. 

A blinding smile breaks out across Harry’s face, and he’s immediately trying to get up, only for Louis to grab him by the hair and pull him back down. 

“Not now, of course.” Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Why not?” Harry pouts and brings a hand to his stinging scalp.

“The stars out. Louis doesn’t like the stars,” Zayn says quietly, bringing a berry-stained hand to scratch at his eyebrow. It leaves a jagged trail of red in its wake. 

Louis opens and closes his mouth and nods slowly. 

“Right,” he says, but then adds, “also the mermaids don’t come out at night.”

“Oh,” Harry concedes, seemingly satisfied for the time being. 

...

They have trouble leaving the next morning as Tinkerbell won’t stop darting around the cave angrily, spewing fairy dust around the cave making it glisten brightly. Niall keeps accidentally floating skywards before Harry yanks him back down, wiping the glittery substance off of him. 

“Tink,” Louis soothed trying to contain the enraged fairy, “I know you don’t like the mermaids, but we’re only going for a little bit.” 

Tinkerbell shakes her head furiously and yells something that only Louis can seem to understand. 

“I know, I know,” he mutters holding his hands up in defeat, “if it were up to me, we’d be out riding the backs of spotted lions.”

Tink says something else and Louis erupts into laughter, a pleasant sound. 

“Awh Tink, we’ll be back in a flash, you’ll see,” Louis winks and floats upwards, twirling around the small fairy. Tink hovers momentarily before flicking Louis on the nose and darting out of the cave, Louis’ laughter echoing behind her. 

The boys look questioningly towards their leader, but Louis merely shakes his head, not offering any explanation. 

“Fairies,” he sighs. “Ah well, best be off.” At that Louis dashes forward, always in the lead, always in the front.

The boys head out east, Louis leading the way to Mermaid’s Lagoon. On the way they pass through the edges of the Swamp and Louis stops the boys with a wicked smile and a finger pressed to his lips. 

“Can you hear that?” He whispers.  
The boys gather close. 

“Hear what?” Niall asks. 

Louis grins even wider. 

“The ticking,” he says, voice portentous and alarmingly low. 

Zain sucks in a short breath. 

“The Crock?” Liam questions, unsure. 

Louis merely shrugs. 

“Could be,” he agrees casually. “Oh well, best be on our way,” Louis sighs, eyes twinkling, before turning to stride ahead. 

The Lost Boys jerk into motion and stumble to catch up, each grabbing for another. Niall tangles his hand into the bottom of Zain’s shirt, Harry and Liam are attached by the hands, and Zayn’s got a steady hold on Liam’s other elbow. 

The journey from that point on is decidedly quieter. They move with peeled eyes and tuned ears, listening from the splash of a scaled-tail against the water, or the soft ticking of bellied clock. 

As they move forward through the marshy terrain a loud roaring becomes audible. Continuing, they come to a clearing where the line of trees splits and reveals a large pool of water to which an enormous waterfall is being emptied into. The water is so blue, it gives the illusion of the waterfall emptying out straight into the sky. The angry foam at the base of the drop floats off like small fluffy clouds before falling back into the water. The boys speed up, giddy with excitement. 

Harry, breaking line, sprints ahead of the rest to stumble into the clearing only to stop short and look around, confused. Despite the beauty of the scene, there’s something missing. 

Harry turns back to find a glaring Louis floating inches off his toes, the boys steps behind. He doesn’t like to follow. 

“Louis, where are all the mermaids?” Harry asks eyebrows furrowed. 

For a moment, Louis’ annoyance persists, but a second later his eyes flash and something unidentifiable passes over his face. 

“No, don’t say my-” Louis starts, before he’s interrupted by a loud and silvery voice.

“Louis!”

The boys whip around trying to find the owner of the new melodious voice. They’re met with the same serene landscape. 

“Did you say Louis? I love Louis!” Another voice cries. 

Louis visibly cringes. 

“Louis’ here? Girls, Louis’ here!” A different voice chimes in. 

“Where’s it coming from?” Liam whispers to Niall. Niall shrugs uncertainly and looks to Louis for guidance only to see the magical boy staring red-cheeked at the waterfall. Niall redirects his gaze to the thundering flush of water and gasps when he notices something peculiar. Behind the curtain of water, a sliver of pink is visible, not only pink but violet and turquoise, and maroon too. The slivers seem to shimmer a glint of light, like a shattered sheet of stained glass. 

A moment later, the curtain of water is broken and a body dives gracefully through it, the light of the sun reflecting prettily against the small orange sequin scales of her tail. A mermaid.

The boys gasp in unison. She is beautiful. 

One by one, they flaunt their tails as they dive through the water fall, twisting and manipulating their bodies to get their scales to twinkle just right. Their hair too, is bright and colorful.

Louis, it seems, is the only unimpressed of the party, and he inches slowly towards the edge of the water as the mermaids gather by the shoreline. Their giggling escalates as he moves closer and a few begin to through woven crown of underwater roots at his feet. He ignores the projectiles and comes to stand in front of the cluster of mermaids, arms crossed and chin tucked into his neck. 

“Hi,” he mumbles. 

The mermaids go ballistic. 

“Louis!” They scream, reaching their hands up to grab at his body. He’s standing just beyond their reach, but he wiggles his toe nervously at them.

“It’s been so long!” The orange-haired one sings. 

“You never visit!” The turquoise-tailed one mourns. 

“You brought friends!” Another cries. 

At the mention of them, the Lost Boys slowly approach the pool, coming to stand dutifully behind their leader. Niall’s got diamonds in his eyes, and he gives them a small dazed wave. They squeal delightedly and bat their long multi-colored eyelashes in response. 

“I’m Violet,” The purple-tailed one introduces, pushing forward to extend a manicured hand out to the boys. The boys glance at Louis, but he gives them a short shake of the head, so they don’t reach out to receive it. 

“I just want to shake their hands,” Violet pouts, twisting a long lavender lock between her fingers. Louis nearly shudders. 

“Me too! Innocent, honest!” The pink-haired one chimes in, voice high and sweet. “I’m Pink,” she says. 

“I’m Niall,” Niall replies dazed, eyes glued to the soft lap of her tail against the water and the ripples it makes. 

The mermaids delight in his response, and in a moment they’re all shouting their names. 

“I’m Orange!” 

“I’m Aqua!”  
  “I’m Red!”

Louis shoots a look at Niall who is too busy taking in all the new names to notice Louis’ burning glare. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” Louis turns around to get Niall’s attention and waves an arm out in the mermaids’ direction, not noticing how close he is to the ledge. 

“You’ve gone and gotten them all-” Louis’ voice cuts off into a surprised yelp when Violet suddenly yanks at his outstretched arm and pulls him into the water. 

“Louis!” Pink yells, delighted, before diving straight down into the water. The rest of the mermaids follow suit until only the rippling in their wake is the only proof that they were there in the first place. The boys stare blankly at the empty space where Louis was just standing. 

They stand in silence, too shocked to do anything. Niall looks particularly guilty. 

“Did the mermaids just drown Louis?” Zain asks softly. Zayn turns to him and shakes his head, unsure. 

“What do we do now?” Harry asks. 

“Swim after him?” Liam suggests.

“I can’t swim,” The twins say simultaneously. 

They fall into another lapse of silence as they try and decide what to do, when suddenly a body crashes up and out of the water. It’s Orange.

“Lovely!” She cries, “Lovely, who’s next?” 

The Lost Boys stare at her befuddled. Do they fight her? They’ve never fought a mermaid before, let alone a mermaid as beautiful as she. Niall couldn’t even begin to think of fighting any creature with a tail as sparkly as hers or with hair that glowed in such a way. 

“Who’s next?” She repeats, a little impatient this time.

She pouts when she’s met with silence again.

“Louis said you could talk,” She whines. 

At the mention of their leader, the boys jerk back into action and bundle together, yelling.

“What did you do with Louis!” 

“You won’t get away with this!”

“Yeah!”

Orange frowns at their yelling and dives back into the water, drenching them in a wave of water as she goes.

A moment later, she resurfaces along with the rest of the mermaids. 

“Where’s...” Harry starts to ask, but trails off when he sees that Violet and Aqua are holding a very grumpy-looking Louis in their arms. His signature forest green shorts and vest have been substituted for a thick woven skirt of reeds. His arms and neck are donned with chains of the same material as well as shells. His hair too, has been braided in sections with the reeds and bits of shell. Along with all the jewelry, some sort of dark blue liquid has been painted on his skin in intricate swirling patterns up his arms, chest, and across his eyelids. If he had a tail, it wouldn’t have been hard to mistake him for a mermaid. 

The mermaids at his sides coo and pet him lovingly. 

“You’re so pretty,” Zayn mumbles, awed. 

Louis’ eyes flash, a blue lightening against the shimmering dark blue of his eyelids. He opens his mouth to say something, but the mermaids beat him to it.

“Thank you!” Violet cries.

“Louis is so beautiful!” Pink chirps in agreement. 

“Well stop staring and come over here,” Louis mumbles, cheeks aflame. 

The boys approach cautiously, afraid to get yanked in as Louis did. They reach the water’s edge and experimentally step their toes in the water. The mermaids watch on but make no move to drag them down, so they relax and slowly begin to wade in deeper. 

“They don’t bite,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Yeah! No biting! No biting at all,” Red agrees cheerfully. 

The mermaids titter excitedly and it’s not long before they find themselves being transformed to match Louis. Orange has somehow managed to weave the reeds in such a way that an empty shell of a river crab is stretched out strong and mighty against Niall’s pale chest. On his back she drew a large octopus, the large tentacles spread lazily across the expanse of his skin, curling at the base of his neck and his shoulders. She painted it on with the same blue liquid, called sea dust. 

Each of the boys get their own personal stylist, except for the twins whom are surrounded by a group of four, two for each. They are particularly giddy over the two, constantly petting at their arms before diving under to grab a shinier shell or a longer reed or more glittery sea dust that will properly bring out their eyes. 

The twins remain quiet through the commotion, albeit a little pink with embarrassment, Louis can tell how pleased they are with all the attention. He floats above the water, high enough so the mermaids can’t drag him back down, ignoring the playful glares they give him and the grabby hands they make at him. Glitter rains down, with the sea dust, a shower of blue and gold. 

Pink shoots him looks every now and then and smiles prettily when she catches Louis’ eye, especially when reddens and turns away. 

Louis huffs and shakes down some glitter on Liam. It lands in his hair and glistens prettily against the shell crown Aqua is fastening onto his head. She gives Louis a small wave and laughs delightedly when Liam sneezes. 

“Your eyes are so beautiful! How can I add anything to your eyes?” 

Louis turns back to the voice. Pink has Zayn in front of her and she is tracing a finger slowly across the arch of his eyebrow. Louis frowns and floats closer. 

Red nods in agreement, sighing as she thumbs at Zain’s cheekbone. 

“I liked what you did to Louis’ eyes,” Zayn says quietly, so quiet Louis almost misses it. 

The words make him falter and drop a couple feet in the air before he gains his composure. Zayn liked his what?

Pink smiles brightly.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Louis’ eyes are very pretty indeed. Why don’t we show just how pretty yours are too,” she decides. Zayn smiles small. 

Once the mermaids are finished, they gather in front of the waterfall and take turns darting through it with the mermaids. Louis and Pink stay back, watching as their friends play. 

“Your friends love you very much,” Pink notes. 

Louis’ heart stutters, and he blinks and flicks glitter at her. 

“Of course they love me,” he says. 

She laughs, a melodious chime.

“Yes, of course,” she agrees. “But,” she says, “do you love them?” 

Louis tilts his head. Love? Could he love? He brings a finger to his chin. Niall and Harry are singing loud and obnoxiously, a tune they made up on the way to berry patch. Without my shoes my toes are free! They wiggle while I walk. Oh what they’d say if they only knew the creatures which I stalk. Oh what they’d say of only my toes, if only my toes could talk!

The mermaids are listening attentively and eventually join in with their high-pitched and musical tones, harmonizing. Liam nearly drowns at the sound of their voices, as he stopped his movements completely, making no effort to keep him afloat. Red hoists him up again, patting consolingly at his sputtering red face. The twins are watching on from the inside of the waterfall, perched on dark wet rocks. 

The sight fills Louis with something warm and gooey, like fresh mud. He touches a hand to his stomach. It’s a strange feeling. Is it love. 

“I think I do,” he decides, “I love them.”

Pink hums. 

“And Zayn and Zain? Do you love them as well?” 

Louis frowns. 

“Zayn,” he says stiffly. 

“What?”

“Just Zayn, only one.”

Pink cocks her head to the side. 

“What do you mean?”

“There can only be one Zayn.” Louis tucks his chin determinately, not making eye contact with Pink.

“And why’s that?” She asks softly.

Louis’ frown deepens. 

“Because,” He argues, folding his arms across his chest defensively. Glitter is shaking off of him in waves, so bright it’s less gold more white hot. 

Pink raises a single eyebrow. 

“It just doesn’t make sense. How can there be two Zayns? There is only one of me, and one of Niall and Liam too. There’s even only one of you!” Louis reasons. 

“That’s true,” Pink agrees, “but are the twins exactly alike?”

Louis thinks on this. He would be lying if he said he’s never noticed differences between the two. There are small things, like the way Zain says ‘uh’ a lot before speaking and Zayn speaks a lot slower. Also, Zayn’s hair lays flat and shiny against his forehead while Zain’s can sometimes stick out at strange angles and Zayn’s eyes are dark brown like fresh mud, and Zain’s eye are slightly more textured like tree bark. There are other things as well, but Louis doesn’t want to think too hard on it.

“No, but...” he starts. 

“What?”

“Well, it’s just,” he huffs. He doesn’t like this conversation. He doesn’t like being asked all these questions. He doesn’t like being wrong. He doesn’t like this at all. “It’s not normal!” 

“Does that mean it’s wrong?” She asks, voice gentle. 

Louis glowers. 

“We’re leaving,” he says, practically shaking with glitter, his sea dust has almost completely flaked off. 

Pink sighs and drags a finger through her hair.

“Louis, I know what a good boy you are!” She sings. 

Louis stomps in the air.

“I am no boy!” He cries, indignant.

Pink merely laughs, a sound like wind chimes. 

“Niall, Liam, Harry...” Louis yells. “Zayn!” and then more queitly, “Zain, we’re leaving. I’m leaving.” 

They boys and the mermaids both turn their attention to the floating figure. They all simultaneously start protesting, loud whines of outrage. 

“You just got here!” Red objects, wrapping an arm around Liam and pulling him to her bosom. 

Louis shakes his head. He can’t see his shadow anywhere on the water and it’s making him uneasy. It’s unnatural. 

“Yeah, Louis! I want to stay longer,” Harry complains. 

Louis doesn’t know how he missed it, but at some point the mermaids had undone the braids in Harry’s hair, and his locks now fell in smooth waves, framing his rosy-cheeked face prettily. 

Louis opens his mouth to say something else, but decidedly shuts it, turns his nose up and turns around to start walking away. In air, his footsteps make no sound, but the drama of his movements provide the same spectacle of a stomp.

At the sight of their leader marching away, the boys shake themselves regretfully away from the mermaid’s and scramble towards the shore after him. 

“Louis wait!” 

Louis doesn’t wait. 

 

...

 

It’s not until the birds, dark against the dimming orange sun begin singing their evening tune does Louis realize the boys haven’t been following him. He’s sitting perched on the highest branch of a Cyrpess tree, staring down at his reflection in the murky swamp. He likes to come here by himself sometimes and wait for something to happen. He waits for the crocodile, for Hook, for the small fish that dark in and out of the water, laughing hysterically when they get picked off by eagles or other birds of prey. 

Louis’ shadow hangs behind him, tangled in the branches and pinned against the trunk of the tree. 

He’d been on his way back to the cave, certain the boys would catch up to him in due time, when he’d come across impressively large paw prints pressed in the earth. Eagerly, he’d followed the paw prints, only for them to lead him in circles through the Forrest, eventually disappearing into a large grassy field where he could no longer track them.

After that, he’d retired to his perch on the tree, earlier events completely forgotten, the boys, completely forgotten. 

He sighs now, tired. It had been a wonderfully bothersome day for Louis, as all his days with mermaids tended to be. He thought on what Pink had told him and scoffed. It was a ridiculous notion. Zayn was unnatural. The idea of twins was a foreign one to him, something so incomprehensible it hurt his head to think about. Yet, she had a point. They didn’t just come out of nowhere. This, Louis knew for certain, he just didn’t like talking about it. There were lots of things Louis didn’t like talking about. He’d write them all down, but that would be far too tedious, too much work. 

He huffed and turned to blow on his shadow, reveling in the way it shivered in the light. Having the boys around could be a lot of work too, he thought. There were many times where a flamingo flock was lost because of poorly timed giggle or step or sneeze. So many times where a story was interrupted, a lip split against a rock and an ankle twisted. Yet, Louis had to admit Pink was right in that he did love them. How could he not? The word was bitter in Louis’ mouth, in his brain, on his skin. He hated the sound of it, too soft for his sharp tongue, to sweet for his daring feet, running into a new adventure at the mere sight of a fallen twig. 

But, he knew there was no other word for the way he felt about them. How dull a day was when he didn’t get to hear the sound of Harry’s laughter, a loud guffaw, like two toad being thrown into flames. How dreary a night was without the effervescent timbre of Niall’s voice weaving in and out of Liam’s to sing ridiculous tunes. How plain the walls of their home were before the Twins took to them with their fingers and palms, decorating them in vibrant reds, yellows, browns, and oranges. 

Yes, Louis decided, only love could describe any of these things, light and soft as it was. He opens his hand blows a pile of fairy dust out of hand watching as it forms the shape of a heart before exploding into a storm of glitter, a thousand blinking, falling stars. 

“How cute,” a voice sneers. 

Louis jolts upright. He knows that voice. He tries to jump into the air, but yelps when he’s dragged roughly back down to the limb of the tree. He sucks in a breath when a blinding pain erupts in his torso.

Down at the base of the tree, a man stands tall and rigid, a black and tangled beard hiding his sinister smirk. His eyes, shadowed and dark beneath the shade of his red hat, glint red and dangerous. Hook. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, you brat,” he spits. Under the rustic curve of his hook is Louis shadow, pierced straight through it’s middle. Louis gapes at the sight of it, his very shadow is sagging and trying to pull away from the sharp object, but Hook just twists it in deeper making Louis scream out horribly.

“Let me go you slimy red-faced frog!” Louis shouts. His grip on the branch is loosening as the wave of pain begins to override his thoughts, the sheer size of it too large for his small body to handle. 

Hook roars with laughter, a screeching sound. 

“Nice try, you brat. You’re finally going to get what’s coming to you.”

Those are the last words Louis hears before Hook gives a sharp yank to his shadow and Louis is jerked roughly from his perch and falls through the coiled branches, hitting his head on a wide limb, knocking him into a murky darkness. 

...

After Louis had stormed off in a huff, it was the twins, oddly enough, who leaped into action first. They stumbled from their perch behind the waterfall and did their best to flail through the water to shore. The mermaids swooped in quick enough to keep their sputtering to a minimum and helped them get there safely. 

“Louis!” Zayn had shouted. 

Now here they were, all the Lost Boys huddled at the shore gazing worriedly at each other. It wasn’t unusual for Louis to stomp off, but he’d never done it in a place where they wouldn’t be able to find him. 

“He’s probably just gone home,” Pink calls to them, breaking their huddle and drawing their attention. She smiles kindly at them, “Why don’t you stay a little longer. Louis just needs some time to think. We hardly ever get company here,” she persuades, her voice a hypnotic wave. 

Without noticing, the boys find themselves leaning forward, entranced by her voice. Harry nods slowly, moving back towards the lull of the lapping shoreline. As he moves his legs start to tingle funnily, a familiar feeling he can’t quite name. Through the haze he frowns, confused when suddenly he begins to float upwards, almost as if he were covered in fairy dust. The thought makes him gasp loudly. The other boys jerk towards him, snapping out of their reverie. 

“Louis!” Harry shouts cheerfully. He spins around in the air, delighting in the way the air twinkles around him. Where was Louis? Harry turns about, searching for his friend. He looks towards the trees and the sky, but is met with an empty space. Slowly, he begins to sink back to the earth. It was just the dust. Eyebrows knit, Harry turned worriedly to the others who were slowly coming back to themselves. 

“Louis...” He murmurs. 

The boys nod slowly. 

“We have to go find him,” Liam says firmly, eyes clear and determined. 

Niall and Zayn and Zain nod in agreement. 

The boys turn back to the mermaids who have been watching the spectacle silently, curious. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam apologizes, “I wish we could stay, but we have to find Louis.” 

The mermaids whine sadly, but Pink has her head cocked to the side, appraising them. She nods slowly to herself and waves a hand at them.

“I guess if you must, you should go find your friend,” She sighs. “You are a strange bunch aren’t you,” she mutters afterwards to herself. 

“We’ll come back!” Niall blurts afterwards, face red. 

The mermaids giggle and blow kisses at them before diving back into the depths of the water. Pink hesitates a moment to give them a peculiar look, before she too, dives gracefully down to her home under the water. 

“Let’s go,” Zain murmurs, turning to head in the forest. The rest of the boys follow after him, the world unusually silent without Louis leading them forward. 

...

“He’s not here,” Harry states dumbly. The cave is empty, not even the torches are lit. By the time they arrived back home, the sky was turning a pinkish red, the underside of a flower petal. The cave seemed so much more vast without Louis in it encompassing the room with his voice alone. 

“He’s really angry with us,” Niall runs a hand over the cave wall eyebrows furrowed. 

“No,” Liam disagrees, “Louis wouldn’t just leave without saying anything.” 

They were the Lost Boys because they were lost to Before, not because they were lost to each other. Before Louis there was nothing. Before Louis, reality was a blurred and monotonous gray. Now it was a bright shower of glitter and adventure, a land of rolling green hills and staggering blue mountains, rivers so clear, they looked like the sky, a sky so vast and full of stars it looked like an ocean of fairies. It was always beautiful, always with Louis. 

“No, he wouldn’t,” Zayn agrees. Zain is at his side, arm slipped through his brother’s. 

For a while they stand in the silence looking at each other, thinking. 

“If he didn’t leave because he was angry, then why isn’t he here?” Harry asks aloud, the question heavy in the air. 

“Maybe he got distracted,” Niall suggests. “Maybe he found the flamingoes.” 

Liam looks towards the fading sky and shakes his head, “No, he’d be back by now if that were the case. Louis doesn’t like to be out this late.” 

It was one of Louis’ unspoken rules. Don’t talk about Before, don’t go out after dark, and above all else, Louis is right even when he’s wrong. 

There were only so many places he could go, or at least only a few places that the boys knew of. Louis sometimes mentioned crevices and dips of the land he’s been to before the boys, before he had a home, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would Louis slip away to an unknown territory without them? Where else could he have gone? 

It’s Zayn who first lets the dark thought pass over him. He gasps at the thought, frightened by the manifestation of it. Zain squeezes his hold on him and looks at him worriedly. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

“The swamp,” Zayn whispers. 

Niall’s eyes widen slowly filling with horror as he realizes what Zayn is implying. 

“No,” he whimpers. 

“What?” Liam asks, confused. 

It’s Harry that answers him, lip quivering and forehead creased worriedly.

“Hook.”

...

Harry nearly starts crying, only Niall slaps him hard on the shoulder.

“Cut it out,” he hisses, “crying isn’t going to solve anything,” and then quietly, “Louis wouldn’t cry.”

Harry wipes his snotty nose with the back of his hand and sniffles loudly, “Right. I know. It’s just. What are we going to do?” 

Liam frowns. “What would Louis do?”

Zayn, looking towards the sky smiles, small and fond. 

“He’d go to Tink,” he murmurs. 

Zain lights up next to him. 

“Tink!” he cries. “Of course, that’s brilliant! Tink will help us!” 

The boys cheer, heartbeats accelerated and chirping in unison, grabbing at each other’s arms and clothing. 

“Tink!” They scream.

“Tinkerbell!” They yell running out from the cave. 

It’s not long before Tink’s small luminous form darts from out of the trees a trail of fairy dust falling in her wake. 

“Tink!” They cry gratefully.

“Hook’s taken Louis,” Liam explains urgently. 

Tinkerbell goes wild. Glittering falling off of her in waves, she flies around manically, flicking the boys as she circles them, screeching angrily, high pitched words they can’t understand.

“Ow, Tink stop!” Harry rubs at a sore spot on his elbow. “We want to save him, but we need your help.”  
Tinkerbell halts in her movements. 

“Please,” Niall pleads, “we don’t know where he is.” 

Tinkerbell jerks into action again, flying around them so fast, she’s just a glimmering flash. Fairy dust rains down on them in waves so heavy they can taste it on their tongues, they can feel it infiltrating their bodies and running through their veins. 

They begin to float skywards until Tink winds down and hovers in front of them, her small form a tremor, voice a tiny squeak. They still can’t understand what she’s saying, but her message is clear enough.

Follow me  
...

The first thing Louis hears when he regains consciousness is the creaky and groan of a wooden wheel, and above that the roaring sound of the wind. Leering, he blinks his eyes slowly, the world coming into a bleary existence. 

He becomes aware of his arms, restricted by ropes tied to the base of a towering mass, of a towering ship. Slowly, but surely, Louis realizes his whereabouts, noting the grimy and dirty brown deck and the looming figure at the front of the ship facing away from him. They’re sailing thousands of feet above the ground, so close to the stars Louis has to glare to see against the bright glow they cast. 

He struggles against his bonds, heart pounding against his ribcage demanding freedom trying to escape through the bones and leap overboard. It’s then that he notes the large iron ball chained to his leg. 

“I’m glad you’re finally awake.” Louis’ head jerks up, sucking in a surprised breath. Hook grins maliciously. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this.” 

Louis physically shakes. Time in Neverland is different. Moments are infinite, like the stars. A star isn’t simply forgotten; to forget a point in time is for a star to burn up and collapse in on itself, to fall. There’s no way Hook has forgotten what Louis has done to him.

“I’ve been thinking about what I would do to you for some time now,” Hook drawls out, dragging his hook lazily against the railing of the ship, an angry screeching noise. Louis cringes at the sound.

“I thought of so many things, you wouldn’t believe it. Drowning, burning, decapitation, you name it, but none of these really spoke to me,” he sighed, feigning disdain. “For how could I truly repay you for all that you’ve done to me-”

Louis cuts him off, “Shut up, you stupid maggot!” Louis’s sweating now, he can feel the perspiration dripping down his neck and back. There’s no way he’s going to make it out of this alive unless he can keep Hook distracted. The mast is too wide for him to try and undo his bonds, but if he can get Hook close enough he might be able to snatch his sword from his belt.

“I wasn’t done talking, you impetuous wretch!” Hook growls, tearing away from the bow and moving forward to grab Louis by the hair making him shriek out. 

Moving quickly, Louis rips his head away and brings it down hard, mouth open, sinking his sharp teeth into the meat of Hook’s arm. Hook howls in pain, but Louis doesn’t wait for him to react before he drags his head back, drawing the hooked arm through the rope. 

As expected, Hook shoots back from him, his caught hook ripping through the rope. 

“I’ll kill you!” Hook screeches advancing towards him. 

Louis turns to run, but is stopped abruptly by the iron ball attached to his ankle. The movement has him hitting the floor hard. He yanks helplessly at the chain, but it’s no use, the ball is too heavy. 

Hook towers over him, his shadow, grand and wicked swallowing the stars light and encompassing Louis in gloom. 

“Poor little Louis. The boy who can fly with the fairies.” He raises a mocking eyebrow, “well not anymore. Let’s see how well you can fly with that chain on your leg,” Hook taunts, diverting his gaze to the side of the ship where a long wooden plank protrudes from it, bathed in an eerie and dim starlight. 

Louis pulls wildly, trying harder to get the iron ball to budge. He can feel his heart in his throat, his fate dawning on him. No, no, no. This can’t be it. The Lost Boys, what will they do without him? 

Picking up the iron ball like it weighs nothing, the pirate drags Louis towards the plank. Louis grabs at the mast, the deck, anything he can get his hands on to keep him from the edge. 

Hook absolutely relishes at the sight. 

“Time to say goodbye, Louis.” 

With one final yank, Hook has Louis upright at the edge of the ship, ready to shove him on the plank. 

“No!” 

Hook’s grip on Louis tightens in surprise at the new voice and turns to see a huddle of boys floating just above the ship’s deck. There’s five of them, so bright, he has to glare to see them clearly. They’re all glowing a brilliant gold, giving off ripples of fairy dust. Hook growls and his grip tightens even more, making Louis yelp. He’s heard of the Lost Boys before, Louis’ little pack of minion brats, but he’s never seen them in person. The sight is revolting. 

“Let Louis go,” Liam orders, voice grave. His eyes go to Louis’ and for a second they hold eye contact and through the fear, through the pain, Louis feels a sense of awe and pride swell deep within him at the sight of his boys, brave and ablaze with light. His throat constricts. 

Hook pulls him up throwing him against the railing aggressively. Louis feels woozy with pain, the light of the stars bathing everything in a dreamlike quality. Hook is laughing loudly, spitting as he does. The sound is distant to Louis’ suffering ears. 

“You want me to let him go?” He asks, face twisted, voice manic. The boys realize what he’s doing a second too late. Their eyes widen and they reach out, arms outreached, but they’re too late. “Fine, then I’ll let him go.” With that, he grabs Louis and throws him overboard, a silent whoosh. 

The sound of the boys’ anguished shouts are deaf to Louis’ ears as he falls, dragged down though the sky by the ball on his leg. Even his own screams are swallowed up by the wind, plucked from his mouth and shot silently across the sky before they can escape. 

The plunge feels endless, falling from such a great height stretched the torturous flailing of limbs. Tumbling through the sky, Louis loses all sense of orientation. He’s falling so fast, he can’t even open his eyes. His stomach is lost to him, dropped so far down, it’s hit the ground before him. 

Only, suddenly he’s not falling. Suddenly, he’s being knocked sideways and then pulled upwards by a pair of arms. Wait. Two pairs of arms. Dizzy and scared, Louis continues to flail sluggishly trying to gain his wits. The arms wrap around him gently, a pair on either side, a warm grip on both biceps. 

“It’s us, Louis,” a soft voice whispers. 

Still not ready to open his eyes, Louis groans gratefully and stops struggling. His head sags tiredly to the side, resting on a shoulder. 

“Zayn,” he breathes. 

“And Zain,” Zain says quietly.  
Finally, Louis opens his eyes to see the twins, eyes furrowed with worry, but also relief flying upwards with Louis in their arms, like angels, gold and beautiful. 

“And Zain,” Louis agrees smiling. “And Zain,” he repeats again, a mere murmur, before fading into a dark oblivion. 

...

When Louis wakes again, it’s to the comforting sight of the fire, a heart of orange and red, licking yellow at the top. In front of the fire, the boys surround Louis, eyes wide and heads tilted forward, eager to see their leader awaken. 

Louis blinks and takes in a deep breath. The crackle of the fire is the only audible noise. He takes the time to look at each of them, each of his Lost Boys. Niall, the small and thin boy, with his rowdy laughter, pale skin, blonde hair, and cheerful blue eyes. Liam standing tall and sturdy, brown eyes like chocolate and voice meant for a mermaid’s lagoon. Zayn and Zain, with their dark eyes, dark hair, and feather soft voices and nimble fingers painting their own stories and adventures on the walls of the caves. Finally, Harry, the curly-haired lad, clumsy and bright, eager to please and sweet to the ears. His Lost Boys. 

“Are you okay?” Zain speaks up, breaking the silence. 

Louis blinks again. Is he okay? He looks at his hands; they’re smooth and bruise free. In fact, his body feels light and lively, like it hadn’t been dragged about like a rag doll. He feels more than okay. What happened?

“Yes,” he says slowly, his usual charm taking its time to work it’s way back into his voice. “Yeah, I- is that Hook’s sword?” Louis asks befuddled as he notes the gleaming weapon leaning against the back of the cave wall. 

The boys grin. 

Harry reaches down and pulls Louis up to his feet and drags him forward into a hug. The other boys join in, wrapping arms across back and shoulder, arms, and fingers interlocked. They begin laughing and it’s a light sound, one that carries out of the cave and floats up to the stars. Louis joins in as well, his sharp-edged laughter bleeding into the boys’ until it’s one harmonious noise. 

Niall squeezes the back of his neck and leans in to whisper,

“Have we got the story for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments and come say hi on my [tumblr](http://terminaltongues.tumblr.com//)


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